


Like every time before

by HashiHimee



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, M/M, Minor Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka, Minor Violence, Oneshot, Sharing a Bed, fem!Hashirama, minor senju tobirama/uchiha izuna - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22922686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HashiHimee/pseuds/HashiHimee
Summary: She was always cold but Madara remembered a time, long ago, when she wasn't; when her fingers and feet, her nose and ears weren't so cold.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka, Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Izuna
Kudos: 15





	Like every time before

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!  
> A slightly dark AU but everything will be fine because for the life of me I can't let them be apart.  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> Please comment and let me know what do you think about it!
> 
> -Hh

“Madara? Can you come and pick me up?” Madara shot a quick glance at the clock over the hoven and simply said “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Don’t move. Don’t do anything else. Just, wait.” “Ok.” Shoving the phone in his pocket Madara grabbed his keys, wallet, black leather jacket and one of the hoodies that hung forgotten on the hanger near the door; he slammed the door shut and before the sound stopped bouncing through the wall he’d reached the first floor. In the next two minutes he’d pushed the helmet on and started the bike and then was speeding through the city road, well above the speed limit, ignoring the red light of the traffic light with nothing in his mind but her tired and, for once, compliant voice; that had really frozen the blood in his veins. She was not compliant. She was fierce, she was passionate, she was strong willed. She was not compliant. Madara stopped in front of one of the city parks seventeen minutes later; it was dark and the park was closed for the night and the street lamp’s light was so yellow that everything around seemed yellow too, it was a bit hollow too. In this part of the city, with no skyscrapers and tall buildings, the air was chilling, even if it was April, and even with all the adrenaline still cursing through his body and the leather jacket on Madara felt a shiver run down his back; he didn’t want to think about her, he couldn’t think about her. Maybe that shiver was from fear and not from the chilling air. _She’s fine, she’s always fine. C’mon, Madara, put your shit together_. With one heavy breath Madara removed his helmet and started heading to that point of the fence surrounding the park partially broken, helmet in one hand and hoodie in the other; he reached that point and tossed the hoodie to the other side and then waited listening intently for every sound, even the faintest. Sound of something shuffling on the ground, a quick intake of air, the hoodie pulled around thin shoulders, a painfully slow exhale; Madara could only take so much so he prepared for climb over but then there was a pair of bloodied hands barely covered by the blue sleeves of his hoodie and the only thing Madara could do was hold on that arms firmly but gently and help her climb back. She was not fine. Other than her bloodied knuckles there were cuts all over her jeans covered legs, some deep enough that the material around them was soaked in blood, the hoodie covered her from shoulder to mid-thigh so Madara couldn’t see anything and maybe it was better that way because his hands were shaking and he didn’t know if it was for rage or for fear; her hair was pulled in a high ponytail but there were some loose strands clung to her forehead, cheek and neck and there was blood on her hair too and Madara wanted to roar with rage and worry and adoration because the look in her eyes was pure force of nature and determination and trust in him. There was a cut on the left side of her forehead and some smears of blood, barely removed, around that cut, under her nose and all around her broken lips; a thin trail of blood was still running from the corner of her lips to her chin and down her neck and following that sight Madara discovered the bruises that were painfully dark against her non yet tanned skin. The only bruises he could see were around her slender neck and on the left cheek and Madara didn’t want to think about the rest of her skin under the clothes, he couldn’t think about that, not now. They headed back to the bike, she limped towards the bike, and then Madara pushed the helmet over her head simply saying “You’re the precious cargo here.” She smiled tiredly and accepted the help for climbing and Madara reminded her “Don’t pass out during the ride, ok?”

-

Finally they were back in his apartment, she was barely awake but resisted until Madara had helped her to sit on top of the kitchen counter under the blinding lights that hung high on the ceiling; now the blood and the bruises seemed even worse than they really were and Madara couldn’t help the worry and the pain at the sight. Slowly he peeled every clothes leaving her only in her underwear and proceeded to wash every cut with a cloth soaked in hot water; the cuts and the bruises weren’t that bad but it was painful watch her limp from the kitchen to the bathroom knowing that he could do nothing but fix her temporary. It was painful every time. She was waiting for him in the tub, eyes closed and head crooked to the right breathing slowly, and the similarity with a beaten puppy seeking comfort was so strong that Madara had to take a step back before approaching her. Gently and slowly Madara washed her hair and her body appreciating the blood flowing away through the tube with the hot water. They didn’t speak during this process, they didn’t speak until they were both in bed, under the fluffy comforter Madara never packed away, even during summer; the silence was part of the trial and allowed her to regain her thoughts and process what had happened this time. Madara tended to all her wounds with patches and gauzes, the cut on her forehead deserved a rather large neon pink patch and she took a picture with his phone because that was a silly sight, and then they headed to his bed; she wore one of his t-shirt, long enough to cover her tight and a pair of his boxer and the sight was painfully familiar and domestic and Madara had to focus twice hard on the task of pulling on a pair of sweatpants because his hands were shaking again. They cuddled in bed for a while without a word, under the comforter the air was moist with their breath but her skin was cold and her feet frozen even if they were pressed between his thighs; Madara nuzzled the back of her neck before resting his forehead in the same spot and that was the moment, she started speaking. “I wish we could leave. Sometimes I dream of it, our live far away from here.” She was breathing slowly, drifting into sleep and her words were soft, barely a whisper, like she was sharing a secret, or a wish, afraid that, if she spoke louder, it will never come true. “I’ve beat him, I’ve left him on the ground and then run away. I wish I could do more, I wish you didn’t have to witness all of this.” Madara felt her hold tighter onto his hands on her belly, their fingers intertwined. “I wish we all could leave.” With that she was out, finally asleep and Madara hold her tight wishing he could protect her, wishing they could spend their lives like this, away from everything, cocooned and safe; the clock on the nightstand read 3:34 am and Madara watched it change until 4:02 before sleep graced him, and finally he was out too.

-

Someone was banging on his door and they both jolt awake, it was 6:53, and groaning Madara had to pull away from her heat and the comforter; she was already in the darkest corner of the closet, wrapped in one of his hoodies with her knees to her chest and Madara closed her in before heading to the front door completely awake trying to pull on a bored, annoyed and sleepy slouch. Through the peephole Madara could see him, but that was unnecessary due to the shouts and angered cries; his red hair and pale skin, some bruises and some smears of blood over his face and knuckles. “Madara, open this fucking door! I know that slut is here!” Madara did open the door and the shouts died. “What the fuck?” “Where’s she?” Madara pretended to not know what he was talking about. “She? What the fuck Mito, what do you want?” “Do you think I’m stupid? I know she’s here. Where the fuck is that slut.” Madara had to breathe deeply before answering otherwise he would punch Mito hard on the nose. “I do not know what the fuck you are talking about, Mito. Go away. I was sleeping. And I have to go to work.” “Madara, I want her back now.” “Mito. She’s not here. I don’t know where she is, fuck, I didn’t even know she wasn’t with you.” “Fine. Fine.” Mito breathed heavily before shouting. “You slut! I know you’re here. I’ll wait for you at home, baby!” “Thank you, Mito. My neighbors and I really appreciate your lovely good morning. Now, go the fuck away from here.” Madara slammed the door shut closing outside the reek of alcohol Mito had brought with him and his cries; he started the coffee maker before heading back to his bedroom. She limped out of the closet and towards him with tired eyes and hair of someone who had barely gotten out of bed and Madara reached her before she collapsed on the floor; he carried her to the kitchen and sit her on the counter before busing himself with the task of pulling together some breakfast: she liked coffee with cream and sugar, buttered toast and maybe some orange juice, but the pineapple one will do too. They ate in silence basking in each other presence and in the illusion that this was real; she was draped across his back, with her legs over his hips, her chest pressed firmly on his back and her chin on his shoulder, her nose near his ear and Madara could feel her small smile against his skin. “Maybe we all should leave.” She whispered and, as an afterthought, added “Before he kills me.” Madara turned around in her embrace, rested their forehead against each other and breathed her in slowly savoring her sent mixed with the smell of coffee. “What do you think about ramen tonight?” She laughed and hummed in appreciation and Madara added “I’ll drop you to work and then come to pick you up at 6? Sounds good?” She nuzzled their noses together and answered “Sounds like a plan.” She kissed him slowly, like they had all the time in the world, and Madara relished every second of it, treasuring every single bit of her she allowed him to see.

-

Working as a nurse in the hospital was fulfilling and tiring; spending ten hours a day running through the corridors took a lot out of everyone but the smiles of the patients were absolutely worth it. When, at 18:15, Madara picked her up she was drained but content. They speeded towards the ramen restaurant on top of his bike and when they entered were immediately greeted by the delicious smell of food and the sight of their family; their brothers, her cousin and his boyfriend stood there waiting for them with small smiles on their lips that died once they took in on the sight of her, particularly their gazes focused on the bruises on her cheek and neck and the band on her forehead. Her brother was pissed and dejected, her cousin slumped back on his seat, Madara’s brother exchanged worried looks with Madara and her cousin’s boyfriend started radiating anger and worry like waves. She breathed deeply before addressing the owner of the restaurant “Good evening, Teuchi, hope the business is good.” Teuchi just shook his head slowly before starting the dinner for the six of them; she sat between her brother and her cousin on one of the high stall of the shop. The sight was one to behold: from left to right Madara, with his long black and untamable hair, his helmet between his feet, the black leather jacket over his broad shoulders, next his brother Izuna, with the same black hair but leaner frame and worried expression, dressed in jeans and dark blue hoodie, his hand on her brother thigh, his boyfriend; Tobirama was watching her with worried and dejected eyes and she knew he was throwing a pity party blaming himself for the situation. On her right Iruka, her cousin, was trying to calm his boyfriend with whispered words and light touches on his shoulder and forearm and if she continued to stare at Teuchi Iruka will succeed; Kakashi was so pissed at the entire situation, understandably so, but there was nothing anyone could do and his gaze shifted between her side and his boyfriend eyes trying to regain control over his emotions. Teuchi served them a bowl of ramen each and they started eating with whispered words among themselves leaving her out, free of pressures and able to enjoy the meal. She was not able to enjoy her meal because her father stormed inside the restaurant with barely contained rage. “What are you doing here?” He spat in her direction and she slowly turned to acknowledge his existence, the other five were frozen but ready to intervene. “Go back home to your fiancé.” “Good evening to you too, father. As you can see I’m here enjoying a peaceful dinner with my family.” Her father’s face was red with fury. “No. Now you’ll come back home to your fiancé with me. Now.” The sound of Kakashi breaking the chopsticks in his fist was sharp against her ears. “Father, I fear you don’t understand. I’m here with my family enjoying a meal. I will not go anywhere.” She started turning around but her father’s hand on her shoulder stilled her movement, forcing her to face him again. “You. Will. Go. Home. With. Me. Now. Hash…” “Excuse me, Sir. If you’re here to enjoy a bowl of ramen you can have a seat otherwise I fear I have to see you out.” Teuchi interrupted her father beautifully, oh, how she loved that man. He released his hold on her shoulder and in the same manner as he had entered stormed out of the restaurant leaving seven people in blessed peace. She turned once more and finished her dinner without as much as a glance around other than at her bowl.

-

“That’s enough.” “We can’t continue like this. You can’t continue like this. She can’t!” “We have to leave.” “Next time could be the last.” “Madara, he will kill her!” “What do you want me to do? I can only do so much.” “Madara, we are in a fucking hospital! She’s laying on that bed!” There was the sound of someone leaning on the bed on her left side and then a cold hand intertwined with her before a whisper reached her ear. “I know you’re awake, Hime. You’re ok, we got you. Don’t worry.” Kakashi kissed her temple gently before addressing the other four in the room. “Ok. Listen to me. Here’s what we’re going to do. You all go home and pack all your belongings, everything, and then go to my place. Pack all my stuff. In two days we leave for real.” “Kakashi you can’t be serious.” “Deadly, Izuna. This is not the first time she ends up in an hospital, and that’s because she’s trying to protect us, so yes, I’m deadly serious. We flight. I don’t fucking care. I’ve reach my limits, I’m beyond done.” The silence in the room was thick, interrupted only by the _bip_ of her heart shown by the machine attached to her body, a sound miraculously calm and steady. “Three days. We need to take care of her stuff too and she will never quit her job without a warning for her boss. I’ll take care of everything else, Kakashi you’re in charge for the escape route. We’ll take watch over her here in the hospital, gods know if that idiots will try something else.” Madara’s voice was commanding but gentle and full of hope and worry; Madara kissed her forehead and whispered “I should have listen to you sooner. Don’t keep me waiting.” Kakashi was still holding her hand so she kept quiet and waited until the other four had left the room before moving slightly and, immediately, wincing in pain. Kakashi squeezed her hand gently before speaking. “Ok, Hime. Tell me what you remember and then I’ll tell you what the doctors said us.” She opened her eyes slowly, glad to find a dimly light room and a worried but relived and determinate expression on Kakashi’s face, the only half visible at least; a green cup was held near her lips and she took a little sip of tepid water before rasping out “How long have I been out?” “Less than a day. Most of it was due to the painkillers and your own tiredness.” She hummed in acknowledgment before taking another sip of water and explaining. “Mito was pissed and my father was pissed. He left and Mito started drinking and becoming more angry. We fought again, I took some punch and I think he shoved me into a wall, or a table, but I fought back and then he was lying on the ground completely drunk and asleep? I don’t remember clearly. I think I flight but I don’t know how. I remember Madara shouting something and the ER.” Kakashi tucked a loose strand of her hair away from her cheek before answering. “Yeah. None of us know what had happened. Madara called us once you were out in the ER. He said there was a lot of blood but only little was yours. The doctors said you have a slight concussion, two bruised ribs, your right pinkie and fourth finger are broken, and so is your left pinkie. Other than this there are the bruises and various cuts on your arms, legs, back and belly and some on your face. I’m a policeman and I understand only so much medical related but I think it’s not the worse you’ve seen. We haven’t called the police but I think we must cause Mito was here around noon shouting and threatening everyone. Don’t worry we took care of him, he’s not allowed in this part of the hospital and neither is your father.” Kakashi took a deep breath before asking softly “Why, Hime? Why are you still doing this?” She smiled a small and tired smile and answered in the same soft tone “Because I love you all so much. I love you and I want you safe. I fear the if we really flight we’ll never be safe. If we stay you’ll be.” Kakashi was frowning. “What’s the deal with your father, Hime?” “I stay here, with Mito for economical reason also, and he will never acknowledge you five again. It was the best I could do at the time. Better invisible than dead.” The deep frown on Kakashi’s face couldn’t be more alarming, he was practically screaming ‘It’s all our fault, it’s cause we’re gay!’ “Hey, Lightening. Don’t you dare ever think something like that ever again. It’s not your fault. There’s nothing wrong with any of you. They are wrong, and twisted, and brute. And I can take it, really I can. You need all the help you can get in this fucking shitty city and I could help you at that time and I will do the same thing over and over again if that means keeping you safe, unharmed and out of the radar. Don’t you dare blame yourself or the man you love for the shitty situation I’m in cause I will never forgive you and nether will Iruka if you start thinking that way. You’re not wrong. Do you understand, Lightening?” Kakashi’s knuckles left a light caress on her cheek before his forehead was touching her; Kakashi took care of her when Madara wasn’t there e in almost ten years they had had that speech on more than one occasion in different forms. “I love you too, Hime. I’ll do whatever I need to keep you safe this time.” They stayed with their foreheads touching for a while until she yawned and Kakashi chuckled lightly. “Go back to sleep. I’ll watch over you and when you’ll wake up someone of us will be here. We got you.” She drifted back to sleep holding his hand, physically and emotionally exhausted. 

-

Even asleep in an hospital bed she didn’t look frail, she looked steady and powerful; Madara curled around her all the same, with his knees under hers, his left arm under her neck and the right over her stomach, resting his head near her, breathing slowly and deeply in the crook of her neck. She tasted like trees and soil after the rain with an overtone of chemicals and antiseptic; she tasted a bit like blood, too. Most of the time she tasted like blood and over the years Madara had come to hate deeply the coppery taste. She breathed slowly and shifted in his embrace coming even more close to his heat. She was always cold but Madara remembered a time, long ago, when she wasn’t; when her fingers and feet, her nose and ears weren’t so cold. That was a long time ago, before he left for the army, when they were younger, barely graduated without a care in the word; at that time she was brighter, her colors more alive. And then, when he came back, she was not anymore. One thing hadn’t changed. Her force was always the same, powerful, determined, like liquid fire in her veins, supportive and protective, but that fire couldn’t warm her anymore and now she was cold. Madara tightened his hold around her trying to share his heat, to chase away her cold. “You’re thinking so loudly.” Came her whisper and Madara sighed, shook his head a little and didn’t bother with a reply. She moved her head so that their forehead could rest against each other and they shared their breaths with their eyes closed, content to just be. He nuzzled his nose against her carefully and she sighed like she was happy, and for that small sound only Madara was happy too. “So, we’re quitting.” Madara open his eyes and she was already looking at him, with that warm brow orbs of her, so full of hope and worry that Madara felt a sting of physical pain. “Yeah. We are. We’ll go as far away as we could and then even more far away. We’ll never come back. We’ll be ok.” She remained silent for a while, lost in her own thoughts, but then she whispered “When I dream of our live away from here, I dream of a house with a yellow kitchen and six mugs of coffee on the counter in the morning.” There was a single tear rolling down her cheek and Madara captured that bit of salty water with his lips before answering, his throat tight and heart clenching “You can paint the entire damn house yellow if you want. Six mugs in the morning and six bowls in the evening. If that’s what you want you’ll get it. You can have whatever you want, I’ll make damn sure you get what you want, be it the moon I’ll find a way to get you the damn moon.” The hold around her was maybe a bit too tight but Madara couldn’t care less, he needed her near, nearer and alive, and happy and if she wanted a yellow kitchen, fuck, Madara be damned if she couldn’t get what she wanted.

-

They left. For real. When she was cleared by the hospital they all headed to the ramen shop for the last time. They ate like usual, with their small talk, and then they left. All their stuffs were packed in big bags in the trunks of Kakashi’s and Tobirama’s cars. Izuna was starting Tobirama’s car, Iruka was already playing with the radio station of Kakashi’s and Madara was pushing an helmet over her head; that wasn’t very safe for her, travel on a bike, but she wanted to leave the city speeding with Madara trough the street, feeling his heartbeat against her hands pressed over his chest, feeling their heart beat the same tempo, she wanted freedom and happiness. “C’mon precious cargo, hop on.” Madara smiled at her and held his hand for her to reach and when she was on top of the bike, draped across his back, Madara hold her hand over his heart before staring the engine. They speeded towards the edge of the city and then beyond and she laughed out loud with her head tossed backwards tightening the hold on Madara’s chest and leaving the tears to slide freely on her cheeks. She was free, they were free. For the first time in years she didn’t have to conceal the fear, she didn’t have to be strong, she just could be she. At their back Kakashi’s blue car and Tobirama’s black one were following them. She could see Izuna’s smile even from the distance and the kiss Tobirama left on his cheek first and, when Izuna turned his head, the chaste kiss they shared. Iruka was singing loudly in the other car with tears in his eyes and Kakashi was looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered, and for Kakashi Iruka was. She turned and stared at the road in front of them before signaling for Madara to reach the clearing at the side of the highway. When he stopped and turned to face her she simply asked “Will you marry me again, Madara?” He kissed her roughly and deeply before answering “I will always want to marry you. Every day of my life I will marry you.” They shared another deep kiss before Madara pushed the helmet back on and then they were free on the road once more. They will never be back, no one of them, they were all free. They could be happy for real.

-

When they got married the first time they were ninth teen. They were wearing jeans and t-shirts, she had a flowers crown atop of her head and they both had matching grins on their faces. No one knew they were getting married; there were no rings and there was no party afterward but there was their love and Madara’s impending date for joining the army. When he came back seven years later she was there, wearing a baggy hoodie over her nurse uniform, a greenish bruise on her cheek, a bright grin stretching her broken lips and eyes glossy with tears. When she asked him to marry her the second time, almost four years after that, she was crying and smiling at the same time and Madara had never seen anything more beautiful.

The second time they got married they were thirty one. She was wearing a mini dress with pink and red flowers and a flowers crown atop of her head, he was wearing jeans and a withe shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and they both had matching grins on their faces. This time their loved ones know they were getting married and were there during the ceremony; there were no rings but there was a party afterward with their brothers, her cousin and his boyfriend, their family. There was their love and alcohol during the party in the backyard of their house, the house with the yellow kitchen and three bedrooms, one for each couple; there were six glasses in the sink the morning after the party and on the kitchen counter, waiting to be filled with hot coffee, there were six mugs: black for Madara, purple for Izuna, green for Iruka, grey for Kakashi, blue for Tobirama and a red one for Hashirama.

They were free and happy, not like every time before.


End file.
